


Drink You In

by BurningUpASunJustToSayHello



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, cup sharing, don't share cups during flu season, even if your bf is an immortal fallen archangel immune to all disease, this is a psa, well I wrote it are you guys happy now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 13:18:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14716799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurningUpASunJustToSayHello/pseuds/BurningUpASunJustToSayHello
Summary: Four times deckerstar shared cups, mugs, glasses, and anything else that can hold liquid.**NOW WITH A BONUS FIFTH CHAPTER**





	1. At The Precinct: Chloe

**Author's Note:**

> This is unbetaed. I'm sorry lol have fun

There had been more whispering than usual today. After Hot Tub High School and the whole Malcolm thing, Chloe was used to being whispered about. But today was different. In addition to the whispering, there was the  _ staring.  _ Again, when half the department knew what your boobs looked like, staring was just as normal as whispering. Of course, she was usually accustomed to sly side-eyes and hooded stolen glances. Not this...gaping. 

But it didn’t matter, she told herself, it was probably something stupid anyways. Another cheap joke about “extra-training” perhaps. Chloe rolled her eyes, and took another sip of whatever was in her mug. 

Correction:  _ Lucifer’s  _ mug. 

By mistake, she’d taken it with her this morning. She wasn’t even sure what was in it, but she’d seen him set it on the bar, and nabbed it after he’d locked himself in the bathroom with his a million hair care products. Chloe hadn’t even realized she’d taken it to the precinct with her until she’d gotten to the parking garage.

Not that Lucifer minded anyways. At least that’s what he  _ told  _ her whenever she wore his shirts or stole his fifty dollar conditioner.  _ Honestly  _ sometimes he was  _ such  _ a  _ diva  _ when it came to personal hygiene. She couldn’t imagine how he’d not had a nervous breakdown before the invention of the electric razo--

Someone cleared their throat.

Chloe’s mental commentary cut out as she stared dimly at Dan. 

“What?” she asked, still not completely focused.

“I said what is that?” Dan pointed at Lucifer’s mug.

Chloe tipped it towards him. “Good question. Espresso?” 

His eyebrows shot up. “You don’t know?”

She shrugged, and took another sip from her borrowed mug. “Lucifer made it.”

Dan extended a hand, and Chloe gave it to him. He ran a thumb over the elegantly scrawled gothic “L” embellished on the white ceramic. Sniffing its contents, he shot a dubious look at Chloe. She returned it with a roll of her eyes. 

She watched as Dan took a tentative sip, half expecting him to make a face. Instead, his eyebrows scrunched together, and he stared at the brown liquid in the mug.

“What  _ is  _ that?” He took another drink. “ _ Whiskey?”  _ He handed it back to her.

A ghost of a smile made its way to her lips. “I don’t know, it’s good though.”

Dan nodded absently. “Yeah.”

There was a beat of silence. A thought flashed across Chloe’s mind and she held in a smirk. Apparently she wasn’t doing a good job, because Dan’s expression dropped.

“What?” the dread in his voice, imminent.

“Lucifer didn’t make this for me, you know,” she told him, barely holding in her laugh.

“So?”

“ _ Detective!”  _ Lucifer’s voice rang from beside her. 

Chloe turned to see Lucifer, curly hair finally tamed, coming down the stairs. He brushed past Dan with a breezy  _ Daniel,  _ and crowded in her space. He offered her a smile, before a look of recognition flashed across his features. Lucifer plucked the mug from her hand.

“There it is,” he said, unfazed and clearly unaware of the situation. “So,” he took a swig of the not-coffee, “what are we talking about?”

Chloe saw Dan’s horrified face out of the corner of her eye. She didn’t try to hold in  _ that  _ giggle. 

Dan’s fingertips ghosted over his mouth. He was staring at the rim of the mug, and the single droplet of liquid running down the side. “Dude I think I just made out with you.”

 


	2. At The Precinct: Lucifer

A week later when Lucifer and Chloe arrived at a crime scene, the whispers started back up. Once more, Chloe paid them no mind, but she  _ did  _ start to wonder what was bringing them on. 

It wasn’t her and Lucifer’s relationship, she decided. It couldn’t be. They’d been together for at least seven months, and the department had sucked all the novelty out of it in the first. 

So what was it.

Her eyes narrowed. She  _ would  _ get to the bottom of it.

But not today. Nope, today she had a case.

“What have we got Ella?” 

Ella barely looked up from the body. “Uh fifty-three year old Jack…” she glanced at a paper in her hand, “Jimmerson?” Chloe nodded. “Yeah he died of asphyxiation.”

Chloe pulled on her gloves and knelt down beside him. 

She ran through basic procedure, Lucifer having wandered off to his-Dad-knows-where. Just as she was about to go search for him, Chloe heard her name over the buzz of the forensics team.

“Detective!” Lucifer called again.

Chloe whipped around to find him talking to an intern.  He held up a pink travel mug.  _ Her  _ pink travel mug, actually. The one he’d stolen off her counter this morning.

“What’s in this?” He pointed for good measure. How polite of him.

Chloe sighed. Draw more attention to them, why not? The whispers had mysteriously gone silent in the past few moments. She guessed they wouldn’t be for long. 

“It’s a smoothie,” she called back.

It was his turn to roll his eyes.  “ _ Really?  _ I mean what’s  _ in  _ it? Darling Leslie here wants to know.”

Chloe shook her head. “Like strawberries and yogurt?” She shot him a look. “ _ Lucifer.”  _

He made a  _ coming  _ gesture with the mug. Once he got halfway between her and Leslie, he turned back to the intern.

“She found it on Pinterest, I’ll get it off her account for you,” he reassured her.

Chloe narrowed her eyes again. 

Damn him, the whispers were back.


	3. Gala: Chloe

The venue was beautiful, Chloe’d give him that much. She still wasn’t sold on the whole “charity” aspect, though.

She leaned closer into Lucifer’s side, hand tightening around his arm. “What did you do for this guy again?” she whispered in his ear. His sharp cologne was seemingly accentuated by his tux tonight, and it took everything in Chloe’s power to resist the urge to reach up just a  _ little  _ more to brush a kiss under his jaw. 

Lucifer, reading her mind, tipped his head towards hers.

“He needed a way into the elite circles and I needed his Italian marble, so I introduced him to some people,” he murmured.

Lucifer’s face brushed against hers, and Chloe bit back a growl.

_ Get a hold of yourself Decker,  _ she told herself. Chloe cleared her throat. 

“So...how long does this thing last?” She hoped he didn’t see the blush spreading across her cheeks.

Lucifer’s dark eyes dragged themselves down the length of her red dress. Then they settled back on her face with a smirk.

_ Shit.  _ He’d noticed.

“Eager to get home, darling?”

Chloe’s mouth thinned into a hard line, afraid the next words out of her mouth would earn them more stares than what they got already.

L ucifer gave a triumphant purr before reaching his free arm across her body to swipe a champagne flute off a passing tray. 

Damn him _ and  _ his Armani. No, scratch that, damn him and his nice Armani- _ covered  _ ass. 

She felt his chest rumble with a few chuckles. He took a delicate sip of the champagne, before swirling the rest around in the glass. 

“ _ Asshole.”  _ Chloe struggled to hold onto her mask of annoyance. 

“Mmm I know,” he purred, clearly satisfied with himself. Lucifer tilted the stem in her direction. “You might like this. It’s a good vintage. If there’s one thing Marco knows besides marble, it’s decent champagne.”

Chloe was just taking a drink when a portly man with messily combed hair and wringing hands shuffled into their corner of the room.  He glanced around once, twice. He was nervous. It didn’t take Chloe’s decade on the force to figure that out.

The man tweaked his bowtie, even though it had been meticulously straight before. He stole another look in their direction, before completing his trek to where they stood.

_ A first timer _ , Lucifer had told her once. The signs were easy to spot since he’d pointed them out: jittery, embarrassed, pockets bulging with cash they thought they’d need to bargain.

Lucifer said nothing during the man’s seemingly indecisive dance.  He’d dropped the teasing smirk on his lips for a more arrogant and calculating one. His spine straightened, even though it seemed physically impossible to get it any straighter. Chloe knew this was all part of the performance. The man was the unknowing audience, and Lucifer, the seasoned actor. 

Chloe played her role too. She was Chloe Decker, Lucifer Morningstar--the  _ Devil’s  _ plus one.  _ And she’s  _ not  _ just a pretty face  _ Lucifer’s words echoed in her mind. 

She took a daintier sip of champagne than she had the first time, and peered at the man over the rim. The crisp aftertaste lingering on her tongue brought an inviting smile to her face.

Lucifer had been right, she  _ did  _ like it.

The man; however, didn’t take her smile as welcoming. Instead, he shrank into himself, shoulders curling and eyes shooting to stare at the polished floor.

“Mi-mister Mor-Morningstar?” his nasally voice asked.

Lucifer raised a brow.  “Yes darling?” The charm laid thick on the consonants. 

Chloe shivered, he was going to be the death of her one day.

The man looked relieved, but his bunched shoulders told her that might not be all true.

“I-I am Mike Wheeler and I represent the St-Stacie law firm…” his voice died, and his face went white.

Lucifer’s gaze swept coolly over Mike’s trembling form. “Go on.”

Mike’s eyes struggled to hold Lucifer’s. “I’d like to make a deal,” he whispered, as if he didn’t know half of the guest list consisted of Lucifer’s “contacts”. If he clearly hadn’t been such a dirty lawyer,  Chloe might have felt bad for him. 

“And what do you desire?” 

Mike gulped and drew out a handkerchief from a breast pocket. He blotted his sweaty forehead hastily, as if he was afraid if he took any longer Lucifer might eat him. 

“U-uh I need to p-prove a man’s innocence.” 

“ Mhmm?”

Mike tore through his pockets, pulling out a stack of cash worth more than three months of her rent. Chloe tried not to gape.

“What will it cost--?” 

Lucifer waved the cash away. “Just a favor Mr. Wheeler.”

The look on Mike’s face said it all. “What?” he said, dumbfounded.

“Think of it as a devilish IOU. I get this cretin off the hook, and I’ll be in touch when I want to cash my end in,” Lucifer explained.

Mike whimpered. 

Lucifer flashed a wolfish grin, and extended his free hand. “Do we have a deal?”

Mike cringed and wiped his hands on his pants, before shaking Lucifer’s hand. 

“Lovely. I’ll be in touch.” Lucifer gestured to Chloe. “May I introduce Miss Chloe Decker, Mr. Wheeler?”

Lucifer took the flute so she could shake Mike’s damp hand. He looked like he might be sick all over her shoes soon.

“Nice to meet you,” Chloe told him, trying to sound as kind as possible. 

Mike coughed and flushed. “P-pleasure M-miss D-Decker.” He stole a glance at Lucifer, who was nursing the rest of the champagne. “Yo-you’re v-very beautiful.” His words were rushed. 

Okay maybe Chloe felt a  _ little  _ bad for him. “Thank you,” she told him genuinely. 

Then, with a rushed goodbye, Mike Wheeler fled, waddling away like some crazed duck.  Chloe felt another chuckle rise up Lucifer’s throat.

“Poor sod,” he told her, setting the empty champagne flute on a table. “Dance?”

Chloe smiled and slid her hand down his bicep. “Sure.”


	4. Gala: Lucifer

A few hours later, Chloe found herself at the bar, watching Lucifer weave in and out of party guests, making deals, being his charming self.

The champagne's warm glow had burned off by the third dance, and by their tenth, Chloe’s stilettoed feet had screamed for a break. Lucifer had helped her onto a barstool, fully intending to wait on her hand-and-foot, had Chloe not waved him off, reassuring him she could handle being away from him for ten minutes. 

So here she was, nursing a glass of wine with a name she couldn't pronounce, in a room full of criminals. It was easy to forget that they were with Lucifer at her side. The first time she went with him to something like this, he’d announced, to her utter horror, to the room that _this_ _is Chloe Decker, my plus one, my_ only _plus one._ Then proceeded to launch into a rant about how _Miss Decker is_ not _just a piece of meat for you to make passes at Mr. Carmichael._

Chloe remembered that when the man--Mr. Carmichael-- had tried to grab her anyways. Lucifer had broke his hand.

When they’d gotten home from the event, Lucifer had been too upset to come to bed, choosing to bang angrily on the piano all night instead. He’d only stopped when he’d finished threatening every criminal in a fifty mile radius, giving a detailed description of the consequences if they disrespected her again. The next time they went to a party, nobody even  _ thought  _ about touching or flirting with her. Lucifer’s glare alone was enough to institutionalize them. 

So she thought nothing when a young man slid in to the seat closest to hers. She ignored his elevator eyes, and took another drink of wine. Even without Lucifer’s protection, Chloe was a cop. She’d dealt with hundreds of leering, occasionally intoxicated, men. She could hold her own.

“A pretty thing like you’s gotta have a pretty name.” the man drew out.

At first Chloe ignored his line, praying he was talking to the girl on her left, and not her. Then the man scooted closer so their knees touched. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” 

Chloe finally matched the man’s gaze. “Um, no thanks. I already have one,” she said firmly, but not unkindly.

The man stuck his hand out, a half-foot away from her stomach. “Derek Russo. Maybe you’ve heard of me?”

She had. Lucifer told her he was an up-and-coming arms dealer. He’d also told her that he was as slimy as they come. 

_ No kidding,  _ she thought. 

She shook his hand, nevertheless. It was important that she didn’t outwardly show her disgust or else she’d never get rid of him. Against her better judgement, she told him her name.

“Chloe.”

Derek grinned. “ _ Chloe.”  _

She didn’t like how her name rolled off his tongue. 

“What business are you in, Miss Chloe?” he continued.

So he didn’t know who she was. Not that that mattered to Chloe, she just wasn’t used to people at these things not knowing her name. Lucifer knew everybody, so that meant by default  _ she  _ knew everybody. All except Derek Russo, it seemed. 

Maybe that was why Chloe decided to humor him a bit.

“The favors business,” she said smoothly, internally choking on a giggle.  

Derek’s eyebrows shot up. “Hun you ain’t no Sinnerman now.”

Chloe’s smile threatened to crack. How had this man made it this far in the crime business and not know who Lucifer was? 

“You’re right, I’m better than him.” Chloe couldn’t hold back the venom in her words. Things with Marcus still stung, even a few years after the ordeal. 

Derek laughed, it was hollow and condescending. 

“Well how about you do me a favor then, hun, and come blow me in the men’s room?”

Chloe gaped, so offended she wasn’t sure how to respond.

Just as she was about to say something, a familiar hand rested on her hip, while another slid the wine glass from her fingers. 

“Darling you know I could have ordered you a glass had I’d known you were interested,” Lucifer said from behind her. She could hear the icy rage looming just under his cheery front. If Derek was as smart as he built himself up to be, he’d hear it too. 

She felt him shift against her back, undoubtedly tasting which vintage the bartender had chosen for her. Chloe leaned into the warmth of Lucifer’s solid chest, hoping it would send the right hint to Derek. 

“She already has a drink,” Derek sneered at Lucifer, throwing Chloe’s words back in his face.

Chloe felt Lucifer’s muscles tighten. “I’m aware. It’s very good.” By that point, his voice was a growl sheathed in a thin veil of forced congeniality. 

Derek laughed again. “I’m Derek Russo, you’ve probably heard of me.”

Chloe decided Derek was  _ not  _ living up to the intelligence he boasted about. If he had, he’d have left the gala by now. 

Lucifer’s hand curled further around her waist. “I’m Lucifer Morningstar, perhaps you’ve heard of  _ me.”  _

To his credit, Derek’s expression didn’t change, even when his face paled.

“So you  _ have,”  _ Lucifer purred dangerously. 

Derek smiled cruelly. “Yeah and?”

Lucifer’s voice pitched the lowest it’d been all night. “Then you know  _ just  _ what the favor business can do to you Mr. Russo. I’ve made twenty deals tonight, and each of them have been in this game twice as long as you. They have no qualms with making men disappear, just as I have no qualms with getting my own hands dirty. So I suggest you apologize to Miss Decker before that gun on your hip finds a new home lodged in your throat.”

With the smile still crusted on his face, his eyes settled on Chloe, not quite as probing as they’d been ten minutes before. “I apologize Miss Decker, it won’t happen again.” Fury burning behind his eyes told Chloe that his words were as rotten as his soul. 

“Lovely,” Lucifer told him, before dashing the last quarter of Chloe’s wine in Derek’s face, “now get out.” 

Derek’s face turned even redder underneath the purple sheen of wine. “This is Armani!” he screeched.

Lucifer chuckled. “So is this,” the hand holding the glass gestured to himself, “Except mine is from this year’s spring collection, unlike your 2012 monstrosity. Didn’t anyone tell you Mr. Russo? Blue went out of style six years ago. I’m doing you a favor.”

Derek snapped his mouth shut, his retort fizzling out on his lips. Without another word, he launched himself off the stool. Chloe watched as he marched towards the exit, an acidic glare directed in the bar’s general direction. Once he disappeared in the crowd, Chloe turned to face Lucifer.

His eyes were still searing with rage, and his jaw was set in a hard line. His hands, though, were soft against the planes of her body. His fingertips danced down her side, searching for injury or offense.

“Did he hurt you?” Lucifer asked with scathing severity. Chloe shook her head. “Did he touch you?” Another negative. 

Lucifer’s muscles loosened, and he let out a breath. “I’ll sic Maze on him immediately.” 

Chloe eased the wine glass from his hand, afraid it he may shatter it. “It’s fine, let’s just go home.”

He blinked. “Darling--”

S he covered his hand with her own. “Hey, it’s fine.  _ I’m  _ fine,” she told him gently.

“But--”

Chloe leaned in closer so only he could hear what she said next. “ _ But  _ if we leave now we still have time to make sangria and watch Mean Girls.”

Finally, Lucifer smiled a real smile.

“Is that a yes?” Chloe stroked his hand with her thumb.

Lucifer’s eyes darkened with affection. “If it’s what you desire, love.” 

Chloe smiled. “It is.”

“Then let’s go.”

As Lucifer lead her out of the banquet hall, Chloe couldn’t bring herself to care about the whispers anymore.


	5. BONUS: Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **SPECIAL THANKS TO GALINDADAAE ON TUMBLR FOR THE IDEA

The ceremony had gone over without a hitch, much to Chloe’s relief. By some act of God (or otherwise) the earth had not opened up and swallowed Lucifer when he’d said “I do”, and nothing caught on fire when Chloe kissed him.

Overall, Chloe would call the wedding a success. The reception on the other hand...well they’d see. 

There was still the speeches and the toast to get through. It wasn’t the speeches that bothered her, either. The night before, she and Lucifer had decided on something special for the toast. They’d told no one, simply just hoping,  _ praying  _ that it would go over well.

Someone was tapping a glass, and Trixie was laughing at something Lucifer was telling her.

Chloe watched them. 

She’d seen Lucifer in tuxes before, but this one was her favorite. The obvious difference between this one and his others, was the fact that it was pure white. The expensive and spotless fabric made his ebony hair and dark eyes seem softer, happier. The tailor had added gold accents here and there, a few polished buttons and some piping on the pants.

_Something different,_ Lucifer had told her when he came back from the alteration shop, _for a new millennia in his life._ Chloe didn’t bother hiding the smile blooming across her face as Trixie, now almost sixteen, admired the ring Lucifer had given her before the ceremony. 

She remembered how a month before, Lucifer had come home with a new ring box in his pocket. _ It’s for Beatrice, _ he’d explained. 

She’d held back tears, and tried to tell him he didn’t need to spend anything exorbitant on them. Lucifer had assured her he hadn’t, and opened the box to prove it. Chloe couldn’t help but gasp.

“Where did you buy this?” she’d asked, reaching out to stroke the delicate curling black spirals that made up the base. Her gaze lingered on the very  _ expensive- _ looking white stone that sat nestled amongst the looping design. 

Lucifer hadn’t wanted to meet her gaze. “Hell,” he’d almost whispered.

Chloe remembered how her had head snapped up. “What?”

“It’s a key to Hell,” Lucifer had begun tentatively. “When we marry, Beatrice will, by Hell law, be my child, my heir, so--”

Chloe had cut him off with a heavy kiss. He’d only barely managed to snap the ring box shut, before she practically drug him up the stairs to bed.

Now, seeing Lucifer explain what it meant to Trixie, made her tear up all over again.

It was moments like these when Chloe wished, for his sake, that Lucifer wasn’t sterile. As much as he denied it, he  _ did  _ make a great father. Or at least a fun uncle. His bond with Trixie was living proof of that. 

The tapping was getting louder, and the conversation quieter. Chloe knew it was time to look away.

She half-listened to the speeches, Lucifer’s mindless touches and thoughts of their toast making it impossible for her to concentrate completely. 

When it finally came time for the toast, they stood, Lucifer helping her up with the same hand that had been distracting her all night. 

They each took their respective champagne flutes, and Chloe mirrored Lucifer’s giant, toothy smile. Moving in perfect tandem, they threaded their arms together. Closing the distance between them, Chloe angled her glass towards Lucifer, and Lucifer tipped his towards her, until they tipped their heads back, and drank from the other’s glass.

When the last drop of champagne dissolved on their tongues, they raised their glasses above their heads, wrists still entwined, and matching expressions of ecstasy painted across their faces.

The smattering of applause fell on deaf ears as Chloe pulled Lucifer in for her first kiss as the Devil’s wife.

**Author's Note:**

> So much for working on my multi chapter


End file.
